Kitty Wishes

by Dahlia Dewinters

  Here, in front of him, was the fairy princess brought to life. Her skin was the color of toffee, the smooth creamy kind that you knew would melt in your mouth the second your tongue touched it. She had lush, full lips just begging to be kissed. He noticed that she tugged on the end of a braid, which reached well past her ample breasts that couldn’t be hidden by the Café Dolce apron she wore.

  He couldn’t remember his order. His frozen brain struggled desperately to find the words to let this woman know what he wanted, but what he wanted at that very moment had nothing to do with baked goods or coffee. A part of him realized that he was staring much too long, but he couldn’t rouse himself from this state of incapacitation and inability to speak.

  To make matters worse, she said nothing, merely stared back at him as he pleaded with his brain to send the right signals.

  Finally, he opened his mouth. “Coffee, please.”

  He’d bet she smelled like sugar and vanilla and cinnamon. He wanted to find out, pull her close and bury his nose in the crook of her neck.

  She turned around to grab a white ceramic cup giving him a view of several more braids hanging down to the rounded swell of her bottom, accentuated by the apron ties. She turned back to him, cup held in one hand. No rings, no jewelry, he noticed. Good sign.

  “For here or to go?”

  To go, he told himself. You’ve got a meeting. “Here.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if she were smelling him. When she opened them they met his for a brief moment, and then darted away. “Would you like to try our Columbian coffee? It’s our featured coffee today.”

  He would drink crankcase motor oil if she asked him. “Yes. That sounds good.”

  She flashed him a brief smile. “Half and half and sugar are on the table. Would you like anything else?”

  He watched her carefully pour the coffee in the cup, fascinated at her skill and dexterity. No one had that expert-coffee-pouring technique.

  Did she ask him a question? “Excuse me?”

  “Would you like anything else?”

  Yes, he thought. But not here. He cleared his throat. “A bagel. Multigrain.”

  “Cream cheese or butter?”

  “Cream cheese.”

  “Toasted?”

  “Toasted?” He sounded like an idiot parrot. No. Toasted bagels were disgusting. The heat melted the cream cheese and made a huge, gloppy mess. Toasted bagels were the bane of the cream cheese world.

  “Toasted,” she smiled a little and waved the bagel at him. “Do you want it toasted? You know, like in a toaster? Makes the bread warm and crunchy.”

  She was teasing him, he realized, watching her brown eyes glimmer with amusement. He smiled in response, no, he grinned like a fool in response.

  “Yes, toasted,” he told her, preparing to make a day of just standing at the counter watching her. “If that’s not a problem.”

  “Of course not,” she said kindly, her full lips parting in a genuine smile. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll bring it to you.”

  Desmond chose a table in the middle of the near empty café. He hadn’t realized that most of the people behind him had gotten their food and left as he stood there fumbling over a simple order. He slowly took off his jacket and hung it carefully on the back of the chair before he sat down.

  There was no doubt he was going to be late, but at this moment he didn’t care. The cafe was comfortable, with pleasant melodies emanating from the sound system. His eye for detail spied several pots of catnip placed here and there, usually tucked into some unobtrusive corner. He didn’t see a cat, but there must be one around somewhere. Why else would there be catnip?

  The sweet fragrance of cinnamon and vanilla announced her presence and she placed his tray on the table. The ticket for his purchase was tucked under the corner of the saucer.

  “Here you are. I’m sorry it took so long. I don’t usually work the counter.” She stood there, smiling nervously. She gave a little wave at his tray. “You can pay the cashier when you leave. Please enjoy.”

  Have a seat. Would you like to sit down? Please, sit. Variations on the same theme stuck in his throat but she was gone before any of them could work their way out of his mouth. Next time, he thought.

  He stared at his bagel for a moment, watching the softened cream cheese almost drip out of the side onto the plate. Runny and disgusting, like the ice cream left at the bottom of a cup. It was just as unappetizing as he knew it would be. He ate it anyway.

  Chapter Five

  “It’s got to be here somewhere,” Julie flipped through a huge dusty book that the reference librarian had dragged out of some deep, dark cavern below the main floor of the library. There were about ten worn, moldy books piled on the table between the two of them that they had been leafing through for the past three hours.

  “That librarian hates us,” Sakaria whispered to her friend. “She’s been giving us the evil eye the whole time.”

  Julie lifted one shoulder. “It’s her job. She’s lucky that she has something to do on a Saturday.”

  It was true that they were the nearly the only people in the library this morning. Everyone else seemed to be out enjoying the spring-like April day while they were in here leafing through the crumbling pages of smelly old books. Sakaria’s hands were filthy and she was sneezing from the dust.

  Julie had finally found her out. Sakaria had been handling her transitions pretty smoothly, cat part of the night, normal café owner during the day, or would have been if it hadn’t been for that damn tomcat. Because of him, she’d slipped inside the cafe’s back door unnoticed by Justin, who was taking out the trash. However, she had been so tired that she’d crawled on top of her own desk and had fallen asleep. When Julie had discovered her naked and fast asleep, Sakaria had no choice but to tell her the whole story. After getting over her shock, Julie had let the matter drop, and gave her a little time before she addressed the problem head on.

  She had arrived on Sakaria’s doorstep early this morning, waking Sakaria from a deep sleep, exhausted from another night of running the streets.

  “I gave you enough time on your own,” she declared, standing on her doorstep in the bright sunshine. “Now, we take my approach.”

  Which is how they ended up here in the library, requesting ancient books from the sour reference librarian. Sakaria had to fight the urge to hiss, catlike, at the woman, whose nasty demeanor let them know how she felt either about their choice of books or the fact that they were requesting them from her.

  These books always have the most frightening pictures. Sakaria shivered as she stared at a full color bookplate of a bizarre looking medicine man, green and gold snakes crawling around his bare feet. His yellow teeth were filed to sharp points and he held something that looked like a flute in one hand. Probably uses it to call the evil spirits.

  “Ye gods and little fishes,” she whispered to herself, before turning the page. The next page was full of small, squiggly writing and Sakaria closed the book with a sigh, earning her yet another disapproving look from Ms. SourPuss librarian.

  “I found something,” Julie whispered excitedly. “Here,” she pushed the book at Sakaria. “Halfway down the page.”

  Sakaria scanned the paragraph with hope but then frowned. “This only works if you’ve been turned into a lion.”

  “It’s still a feline.” Julie had an optimistic look on her face. “Maybe that could be helpful?”

  Sakaria shook her head. “Best not to mess with it. It’s not specific enough and it might put me in a worse place than I am now.” She paused, looking at the dusty piles of books. “I think I’m just going to have to go see old Billy-boy myself.”

  Julie frowned. “What? You mean to tell me after all these months you haven’t done that?” She rolled her eyes. “I swear, Sakaria!”

  “I was afraid.” She toyed with the frayed cloth corner of one of the smaller books.

  “Sakaria, first of all, I told you not to go out with him
. Second, he’s like a total pothead. He probably doesn’t even know that the stupid spell worked. Heck, he probably wrote the letter while he was high!”

  “Shhhhh!” Ms. SourPuss squinted in their direction.

  Julie lowered her voice. “You go over there as Saki-cat and threaten to rip his balls off. He’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

  Sakaria widened her eyes. “I can’t do that. He’ll call the cops.”

  “Yeah, right. And throw out all those pot plants? Who would believe his story about being threatened by a cat?” Her friend got up and slid into the seat beside her, patted her shoulder. “You can do this Sakaria. I’ll go with you.

  “No. You can’t go with me. What if he does something to you?” She shook her head. “I’m not going to pull you into this.”

  Julie pursed her lips for a second. “All right, but at least let me drive you. Either way you have to go see him.” She laughed a little. “If nothing else, you’ll scare the crap out of him.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “Don’t think too long, Sakaria. Who knows how the spell will progress?”

  As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Julie had a point. These books weren’t getting them anywhere. She had to go to the source of the problem.

  Chapter Six

  Julie pulled up to the curb and cut the engine. Sakaria moved restlessly in the passenger seat and stared at the darkness outside the window. She’d gone to psychics, an obeah woman, even a Catholic priest, and none of them could help her. Julie was right. What choice did she have now but to see him? William Kent.

  She had gone out on one date, just one date, because she liked his smile. The rest of him wasn’t that bad either. Who would have thought such a charming, easygoing guy would turn out to be, well, crazy.

  “Go,” Julie said, patting her trembling arm. “I’ll be here. If you’re not back in about a half hour, I’m coming to get you.”

  Sakaria took a deep breath and glanced at her friend, who looked back at her sympathetically.

  “It’s the only way you’re going to find out if, and how, you can shake it off, Sakaria,” she said gently. “He’s the one who can give you the info you need. You’ve tried everything else.” Julie paused, watching her face. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No!” Sakaria shook her head, her masses of tiny ringlets bouncing around her face. “I told you, he might do something to you too.”

  “You know I don’t care about that.”

  “I know.” Even though it was a warm night, Sakaria massaged the goosebumps on her arms and took another deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart. “It’s now or never, I guess.”

  Sakaria stepped over the console to the back seat of Julie’s truck. Once there, she slipped off her clothes. Then, she closed her eyes, willed her body to shift and immediately experienced the cold, painful feeling invading her arms and legs. Then, she was a cat.

  Julie opened the back door and she leapt out into the night.

  * * * *

  Sakaria crouched in the hedges of Will’s backyard. Her night vision was excellent: she watched him as he carefully constructed his evening smoke. He sprinkled the dried marijuana leaves with the dexterity of a surgeon, distributing the crumbly herb on the rolling paper. Barefoot and shirtless, he rolled the blunt slowly, licked the end paper and gave it a twist. Sakaria wanted to laugh. Who knew he was such an expert joint roller? And to think she had gone out with him. He lit the tip and inhaled deeply, eyes closed in what she presumed was blunt-smoking heaven.

  “This is some excellent shit,” he murmured, as she trotted across the yard and leapt onto the deck. It was easy from there to slip through the open screen door. She figured he’d be out there for a while.

  The bedroom was easy to find in the small house and she spotted several places to hide, but eliminated them one by one due to their disadvantages. She didn’t want to be trapped in a closet or closed in a drawer and thus settled for under the bed to more easily monitor his movements when he entered the bedroom.

  Bored and vindictive, she busied herself under the box spring. Methodically, she shredded the toes of his sneakers which were lined up neatly under the bed. Once she was done with that, she trotted into a corner where the plush carpet was the deepest, and emptied her bladder, making sure to spray the wall. On the way back to her hiding place, she raised herself on her back paws and casually sharpened her front claws on the front of his fine mahogany dresser, leaving deep scratches in the highly polished wood. For a stoner, he has some really nice taste.

  About an hour later, the bedroom light flicked on and she saw his bare feet as he got into bed and had to restrain herself from clawing at them. The box springs sagged above her as he settled in for the night.

  She waited a few minutes, idly playing with the end of a damaged shoelace until she was pretty sure he was almost asleep. Then, she climbed up on the dresser next to the bed and watched him. She could see his bare chest. If she was lucky and he was not, he would be sleeping naked.

  Sakaria took a moment to judge the distance and jumped, extending all of her claws for a precise landing on the soft flesh of his chest and abdomen, digging in to steady herself.

  He awoke with a start, a scream strangled in his throat, his hazel eyes wide. She clawed his shoulder, evilly pleased at the nasty red welts she was leaving. How do you like your cat now, Will?

  “What the fu—” He reached for her, but his reflexes were sluggish and Sakaria was too fast, slipping through his clumsy fingers to scratch his wrist. More angry, red welts emerged on his tan skin. He heaved himself out of bed and stumbled out of the bedroom with Sakaria hot on his heels. She was having a great time.

  “Cat… hey… get away! What the hell?” Even as agitated as he was, he didn’t lose his surfer dude accent, drawing each word out to its fullest. His face was bright red as he grabbed a broom and brandished it, trying to fend her off.

  Sakaria wanted to laugh. As high as he was, he had no chance of even coming near her with that broom. He smacked at her and she simply ran toward him and scratched his bare ankles. What pleasure that gave her to rip into his skin like that. What a bastard. He dropped the broom and backed into the living room area.

  “Goddammit!” He stumbled into the living room, and Sakaria followed more slowly hissing her displeasure. William turned and stared at her as she sat down on a scruffy throw rug.

  He sat down slowly on his sofa, absently rubbing the scratches on his chest and arms.

  “Sakaria?”

  Of course, he would know her. He’s the one who put the spell on her in the first place.

  She shifted into human form and stood up, not caring that she was naked.

  He stared at her with pot-fogged eyes as she walked toward him.

  “Take this goddamn spell off me, Will,” she said in a low voice that didn’t reveal how angry she really was.

  He parted his lips to speak. “Duuuuude,” he said foggily. “So it really worked. Holy shit, you’re, like, a pussy cat!” He paused. “Nice tits.”

  She slapped his face, hard. “Tell me how to take it off, Will.”

  He shrugged, sagged back against the midnight blue sofa. “Like, I totally don’t know how.”

  Exasperated, she backed up and sat in a matching chair across from him, looked around and tried to think. He actually had a nice place. White wooden mini blinds, modern furniture. Even the pot posters on the wall were in wooden frames behind glass.

  But what was she going to do with him?

  “You put this spell on me?”

  “Like, yeah.” His heavy lidded eyes crawled over every inch of her exposed body. She didn’t care. He was such a nothing anyway, it didn’t matter. “Ah babe, you’re, like gorgeous.” He extended his arms to her. “Why don’t you bring that beautiful body over here and sit on my face.”

  “For goodness sake,” she snapped. This, she thought, is why you only had one date with me, you fool. “Why Will?”

>   “Why do I want you to sit on my face?”

  “Why did you put this spell on me?”

  He shrugged. “Like, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I totally didn’t think it would actually work, like really?” He blinked slowly, as if seeing her for the first time. “You’re like a pussy cat!” His hand dropped to the waistband of his boxers and slid in. “How about a little pussy from the pussy?”

  Sakaria flicked her eyes down at the tent that was forming his boxers and smiled her sweetest smile. “Go ahead, Will, take it out. We’ll play.”

  Like the jackass he was, he started to shed his boxers then paused. Most likely, he was thinking how it would feel to have one of her kitty-claws through his scrotum. She could see it all over his face and she laughed as she shifted back to cat form. Time to let him know she was serious.

  Sakaria leapt onto his shoulder, clawing at his scalp and ears. He put his hands around her furry body tried to squeeze her but she sank her sharp fangs into the flesh of his earlobe and bit down hard.

  He screamed this time, a high pitched screech that warmed her to the tips of her kitty paws. He let her go.

  “Jesus, Sakaria, stop!” He waved his hands in the air. “I stole the book from the library and like accidently set it on fire. But….”

  Sakaria leapt from his shoulder to a chair and shifted back, brushing her hair out of her face and delicately wiping his blood from her lips with the back of her hand. She gave him a feral smile.

  “But what, William? Tell me, or the next time I shift, I’m scratching your eyes out. Then, I’ll start on your balls.”

  He licked his lips nervously and touched his injured earlobe. “A man has to break the spell. He has to be in love with your, like, inner essence. Then he’ll, like, know you in your cat form and call you by your totally sexy name. Saaaa-kaaaa-riiiia.” He drew her name out dreamily and Sakaria knew he was on a serious high.